


Call It What You Want

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bondage, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-04
Updated: 2012-06-04
Packaged: 2017-11-06 19:10:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/422201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s not that Harry does everything Louis tells him to.  Just most things.  The vast majority of things, honestly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Call It What You Want

It’s not that Harry does everything Louis tells him to. Just most things. The vast majority of things, honestly. All it takes is a quick sideways glance, and just like that Harry fixes his mussed hair or adjusts his sitting position or spreads his legs a little further apart to let Louis in between them. 

At first Louis hadn’t been able to work out how someone could possibly be so agreeable. Quite suspicious, in his opinion. So he’d asked, and Harry only chewed his bottom lip and said, “I like when you tell me what to do,” like that’s the simplest thing in the world. Maybe it is. 

Since then, he’s never been shy about making requests, and this time is no different. 

The two of them are stretched out on Louis’ bed, kissing lazily for no real reason other than they’ve run out of crisps. Harry tilts his head and bumps their noses together, throwing one leg over Louis’ and sighing fitfully. He seems pretty far gone, and Louis decides that this is as good a time as any. 

He kisses his way up the side of Harry’s throat and does a bit of hunting through the curls until he finds an ear, lips barely brushing the shell of it as he whispers exactly what he’d like to do. 

Once he’s heard, Harry’s eyes go so wide it’s almost comical.

“Jesus, Lou.”

“Good one, right?” says Louis, already planning in his mind how this will all work out. 

Harry adopts a deeply unconvincing expression of reluctance. “Dunno,” he drawls. “Not quite sure.”

Louis slips into his own role easily, making a dismissive noise and pushing Harry down until he’s lying on his back. 

“Nonsense,” he says. “You’ll like it.”

He doesn’t miss the way that tension floods out of Harry’s body after the assertion, eyes soft and limbs pliant. 

“Okay,” Harry says almost at once, scrambling to sit up and pull his t-shirt over his head. 

As he chucks it away and starts fumbling with the zip of his jeans, Louis gets off the bed and hunts around underneath it until he finds the box where they keep all of their sexual accoutrements. It’s shoved pretty far back there, since Niall found it last month and had to be fed three consecutive meals in the span of thirty minutes in order to recover emotionally. Louis grabs it and rifles through until he finds what he’s looking for; a cockring, a vibrator, and a good-sized length of rope. 

Harry, now clad in nothing but boxers, gives it all an appraising look. They’ve used these things separately, but never all at once, and Louis watches his face carefully for any signs of real reluctance. None are forthcoming.

Louis sets aside the other two items in favor of uncoiling the rope, and as soon as he sees, Harry holds both wrists together above his head. 

Louis is careful with the knots, just like always, and once he’s finished he slips a finger in between the rope and Harry’s skin to make sure it’s not cutting off circulation. 

Once everything is to his satisfaction, Louis straddles Harry by the hips and grins down at him crookedly.

“Ready?” he asks.

Harry nods, smiling back, and Louis leans down to kiss him. 

He makes a soft, surprised noise when Louis sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, breath hitching. Louis skims his thumb along Harry’s jaw, presses it up against his neck to feel his pulse fluttering madly under the skin.

Harry groans, tilting his head in silent encouragement. Louis leans down to put his mouth there, sucking until the spot is tender as a bruise and then pushing with his thumb once again. He could do this forever, probably, but there are bigger things to think about at the moment.

“You’re distracting me,” he teases. 

Harry squirms, mumbling a low “sorry” under his breath. 

“Bet you are,” says Louis, hooking his thumbs in the waistband of Harry’s briefs and tugging them downwards. There’s something powerful about being fully clothed while Hary is half-hard and naked underneath him, spread out and pinned and vulnerable under Louis’ gaze. 

Harry must feel the same way, flushing red and turning his face into a taught bicep as Louis reaches behind him for the lube, unscrewing the cap and coating his fingers with it. He strokes Harry a few times and then slides the ring on, tight around the base of his cock. 

Harry tugs against his restraints, groaning in frustration at Louis’ teasing strokes. He’s completely hard now, cock stiff and looking a little bit fuller than it usually does because of the ring. Louis allows himself a moment of admiration before he grabs the lube again, spreading Harry’s legs apart and massaging a liberal amount around his entrance. 

He works a finger in, and then one more, spreading them apart and angling them deep inside before pushing the vibrator in slowly, inch by inch.

“Okay?” Louis asks once it’s in, bracing a steadying hand on his thigh. 

Harry nods, and Louis reaches over to flick the vibrator onto its lowest setting. 

\--

Harry gasps as it buzzes to life inside of him. It feels nice, not incredibly overwhelming, and for a few moments he catches his lower lip between his teeth and rocks into the sensation, closing his eyes. 

Louis takes the base of the vibrator and slides it a little ways out of Harry’s body, re-angling it and pushing it back in so it lands on a spot that makes Harry’s back arch sharply, wrists straining against the rope. 

“Bet you want my cock,” Louis says roughly, the first time he’s seemed less than composed, and Harry’s brain short-circuits a little. 

He knows Louis will want a straight answer but it’s all he can do just to nod frantically, hips twitching up as the vibrator motors on. “Yeah,” he says, imagining Louis forcing his jaw open, thrusting down Harry’s throat and using him any way he likes while he’s powerless to stop him. “Wanna suck it, please--”

Louis pulls the vibrator out again, pushing it back in hard and flicking it up to the next setting. His other hand hovers near the front of his jeans, so close to popping the button and giving Harry what he wants.

Harry makes a pathetic noise, and it seems to snap Louis out of something. He moves his hands away at once. 

“Terribly sorry,” he says. “But I’ve got a few errands to run, just realized.”

Harry blinks up at him, uncomprehending. Louis had whispered that he wanted to leave Harry tied up and desperate with a vibrator buzzing inside of him, but Harry had just figured that meant he would go to another room later on, or something. 

“You’re gonna leave me here?” he stammers out. The thought of struggling or demanding to be cut loose doesn’t even cross his mind.

“Just for a while,” Louis says, fixing Harry with a hard stare that makes his gut twist around. “That a problem?” 

Harry knows that if it really was a problem, Louis would let him go in a second, but he also knows he’s not going to ask for that anytime soon. 

“No,” he says meekly, and Louis leans down to kiss him one last time. 

“Back in a bit,” he says, grabbing his keys off the nightstand where he’d left them. “Try to stay put, would you?”

And with that, he gives Harry a wink and lets the door bang shut behind him. 

“Absolute tosser,” Harry grits out, but he waits to say it until he’s sure that he’s well and truly alone. 

Honestly, he’s not sure how he’s going to survive this. He feels hot all over and his cock won’t stop twitching, bumping against his stomach and leaving little smears of precome there as the vibrator buzzes on. 

Harry’s eyes squeeze shut as he works his hips up into thin air, desperate for some sort of friction. Even when he tries to keep still he can’t stop himself from squirming, shifting the toy around inside of him until it’s nudging up against a spot that has him shaking uncontrollably, the pleasure almost unbearable. 

He hears himself make an embarrassing noise, body convulsing as he attempts to curl in on himself. His cock is begging to be touched, drooling precome and standing up flushed and dark, but the ropes are tight enough that he can’t even turn himself around to rut against the sheets.

Panting, Harry shuts his eyes and waits.

\--

Louis stands in front of the cashier and taps his foot impatiently. He didn’t even think people ever did that outside of cartoons. 

He’d only picked out a few things, but this has already gone on for much longer than he’d meant it to; there was traffic on the way, and a long line at checkout, and now he has apparently chosen the single bag of crisps in all of England that refuses to ring up properly. The cashier squints down at it like it’s about to come alive and start singing to her. 

“Price check at register 4,” she calls into her little microphone, and it’s ages before some spotty teenager comes over to help her. 

Louis knows his face must look positively thunderous, but the two of them could not possibly be going any slower, and some couple’s young daughter is beginning to eye him like she might know who he is. 

Just as he’s about to abandon the crisps altogether and speed off home on foot, the cashier is finally able to ring him up. 

“Sorry about that,” she says with a sheepish smile. Louis just sort of grimaces and slaps down a handful of cash, nasty words like gangrene or priapism dancing through his head and setting his teeth on edge all the way back to his car. 

Because the universe is conspiring against him, the traffic back is just as bad as it’d been coming. It seems like forever until he gets back to the flat, hurrying to the bedroom and pausing for a moment in the doorway to clutch at his side and huff like an old man.

Harry stirs on the bed, and Louis’ eyes are drawn to the movement. He looks absolutely wrecked.

His eyes are red-rimmed and glassy, struggling to focus. His body jerks compulsively, and with each pulse of the vibrator inside him he lets out a low, desperate whine. 

Louis actually winces in sympathy once his eyes fall on Harry’s cock. He looks painfully hard, dick curving up towards his belly, all swollen and red and completely untouched.

“Lou,” says Harry, voice hoarse. He tugs weakly at his bonds, and as Louis gets closer he sees that the soft insides of Harry’s wrists look raw. 

\--

Harry feels as though he’s descended into a kind of stupor. The pleasure has become almost indistinguishable from pain, and its unrelenting constance pushes him straight to the edge of what he can take. He barely even hears himself rasp out Louis’ name.

When the bed dips down and Louis appears next to him looking profoundly guilty, he struggles to blink the haze out of his eyes.

“Take it off,” he begs. Embarrassingly, he can feel fresh tears springing to the corners of his eyes at the thought of imminent release. 

Louis strokes his hair back from his face, still looking a bit stricken as he reaches for Harry’s cock, working his finger underneath the rubber and slipping the ring off. Even those light touches are enough to make Harry whimper and shake, more desperate than he’s ever been. 

There’s half a moment when the ring is all the way off and he thinks he’s still not going to be able to come, that he’s going to feel this way forever, but then Louis takes hold of him with gentle fingers.

“Sorry, Harry, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have gone,” he mumbles under his breath, keeping up a constant stream of apologies as he brings Harry off. All it takes is a few firm strokes and he’s coming, trembling apart with a long, broken moan. The vibrator seems to intensify everything by a thousand times, and Harry’s legs shake uncontrollably as he’s wracked with aftershocks. 

A few more tears slip down his face as Louis flicks off the vibrator and draws it out. He’s sore, even though Louis is unbearably gentle, and it feels strange after all that time not to have it in. Louis wipes the tears guiltily away with his thumb, and then move on to the knots. 

“--So sorry, Haz, I should’ve thought about it more,” he continues, moving on to the knots. Harry wonders incredulously if he’s really been talking this whole time. 

The rope goes untied before he can think about it, and then he’s lost in the bliss of finally being able to put his arms down. They’re stiff and full of cramps, and Harry is grateful when Louis pulls his limp body close and starts massaging out some of the tension. 

“Harry, I really fucked up,” Louis tries again, and Harry mulls it over. This was quite a spectacular fuck-up, and he’s stiff and sore and rope-burned because of it, but he does have to admit that it was also quite a spectacular orgasm. 

“Yeah,” he says sleepily, letting his body relax against Louis’, and that’s really all the commentary he can bring himself to present on the subject.


End file.
